The Victors' Return
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: They all need to heal from the war, and home is where the District 12 victors go to do it. Set after Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1

So, I'm taking my first shot at a multi-chapter Hunger Games story. I hope you like it! I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 1  
The Hunger Games were over.

The war for independence from the Capitol was over.

And Peeta Mellark was alone.

Just days after Presidents Snow and Coin died, he was returned to his home district of 12. The place had been bombed only minutes after Katniss Everdeen, his fellow Hunger Games victor, had blown a hole in the dome of the arena during the Quarter Quell. All hell had broken loose after that. While some were rescued by the rebel forces from the once believed destroyed District 13, he was taken hostage by the Capitol. He endured weeks of torture at their hands.

Being rescued, being sent to District 13, was worse. She was there, and he felt compelled to kill her. Something in his brain had told him she was the enemy, a Capitol-manufactured muttation designed to kill him. If his time in the Games had taught him anything, it was kill or be killed. He had been sedated, manacled, and threatened with his own death for attempting to murder Katniss Everdeen.

Now, there was a very real possibility that she would die at someone else's hand. Haymitch Abernathy, their mentor for both Games, had remained behind in the Capitol. He was there to testify on her behalf, and hopefully would be able to sway the vote in her favor. Peeta prayed he would succeed. Coin may have been president of District 13, but she was just as corrupt as Snow had been. Panem was better off without them.

The Victor's Village was unscathed in the bombings, and so he had a place to which he could return. The house given to him after being crowned victor had never felt like a home. His family continued to live in town above the bakery his father had opened not long after he finished school. His three sons were exposed to the trade from a young age, and it still calmed Peeta to mold a hunk of dough into bread.

And so he passed his time baking and trying new recipes. Dr. Aurelius had arranged for supplies to be sent to his home, eliminating the need to venture into town. No one else had returned to the district, and so no shops were open. Most of them would need to be rebuilt, and that would take months so long as former citizens returned.

He had been back for two weeks when Haymitch returned. "Got anything to drink?" he asked tiredly when Peeta let him into his house.

"No," he replied. "And with you back now, the population just doubled."

Haymitch cursed under his breath and walked into the kitchen with Peeta trailing him. He searched each cabinet as if Peeta had lied and kept a secret stash of white liquor from him. All he found were dry baking ingredients and dishware. Giving up, he sat down at the kitchen table and sighed.

"Are you going to tell me what happened now or wait for me to go insane with worry?" Peeta demanded.

"The population of District 12 just tripled," he said, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his eyes with calloused fingertips.

He wouldn't allow himself to get his hopes up. "She's alive?"

"And confined to the district until further notice," Haymitch confirmed. Peeta dashed out of the kitchen, intent on seeing her, but Haymitch caught him quickly. "She's not doing too well. I was allowed to see her when she was being held in the Training Center. She didn't say much, but she told me to tell you that you should have let her die."

"I couldn't," he admitted, allowing Haymitch to lead him to the sofa. "I've started remembering things. Prim...she was helping me."

"You can't mention Prim around her," Haymitch warned. Peeta nodded. "Her mother isn't coming back either. The hospital in 4 offered her a position, so she's going there."

"And Gale?" he wondered.

"District 2."

"So, we're all she has," he said dazedly. He quickly got to his feet and made it to the front door before Haymitch realized what he was doing. The door now open, Peeta ran across the dirt road that separated their houses. He banged on the door, yelling her name, urging her to let him in.

"Are you crazy?" Haymitch yelled, yanking him back.

"Yes, I am!" Peeta replied angrily. "Now let me go."

Haymitch relented, and Peeta returned to the door, knocking until his knuckles bled. But Katniss never opened the door. He admitted defeat and sat down on her front porch, head in hands. "What did I do?" he muttered, rocking back and forth.

Groaning as he lowered himself next to the young victor, Haymitch placed his hand on Peeta's shoulder. "Well, I'd say you bloodied up your hand quite nicely there," he replied, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.

Peeta ignored his attempt to clean up his bleeding hand. "I really screwed everything up with her," he murmured. "How do I fix it?"

"Give her time," Haymitch advised. "She's hurting right now, and we both know she withdraws when she's in pain. I didn't see her for a week when you were taken by the Capitol, and it's not like I wasn't looking for her. Her family's gone now, Peeta, and she needs to heal."

"And shutting herself up in a big, empty house all alone is how she'll do that?" he wondered.

Haymitch shrugged. "Seems to me she's always needed someone to pull her out of it in the past," he said. "As I recall, you have some experience in that area."

Peeta frowned as he tried to recall a time he had been there to save her, but nothing came to mind. He remembered nights after their first Games when he held her as she battled the nightmares that came each time she closed her eyes. Aside from that, he had been useless, relying on her to make it through two trips to the arena. But rarely had he been the one to help her.

Haymitch sighed impatiently. "You know what I'm talking about," he urged.

And then Peeta realized what he meant - the bread.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
Katniss once claimed that the burnt bread had saved her life. Her family had been starving, and his act of kindness had given the Everdeens hope that they could survive another day. She began to hunt again after that, now without her father who had perished in a mining accident. With each day, he saw some of the life return to the girl he had loved since they were children.

He wanted to help now. If only she would open the door. If only he knew what to do. Rising from his seat on the steps, he walked back across the road to his own house. His was just as empty as Katniss's. He had few reminders of home save for one photo of his family taken the day he returned from the 74th Hunger Games. Effie Trinket, their escort, had insisted that it be taken and had it framed for him. She presented it to him the day he moved in, placing it on the mantle when he cast it aside.

But his family was the last thing on his mind. Katniss Everdeen occupied his every thought; some smooth, others shiny. He recalled events the Capitol hadn't managed to hijack, and he focused on those until the latest episode passed. Nights on the train to and from the Capitol, sleeping peacefully beside each other. Prim's birthday when he had baked a cake and decorated it with primrose flowers. The way Katniss had kissed him before he left that night, so grateful that he had made her little sister's birthday wish come true. They were moments unblemished and cherished. It was how he wanted to remember the Girl on Fire.

Peeta walked through the house until he reached the kitchen. He filled a glass with water and quickly drained it, staring out the window as he did so. It was then he remembered the tool shed in the backyard and an idea came to him. Leaving the glass in the sink, he ran out to the shed to gather the necessary materials. Without a second thought, he took off for the woods that surrounded District 12 and had been illegal ground until the Capitol fell. The fence, which once buzzed with electricity, was now silent, and he was able to slip through a wide hole.

It took two days to locate, gather, and transport ten primrose bushes back to the Victors' Village, but Peeta finally managed to complete the first leg of his task. There had been little sign of life in the house across from his. Greasy Sae came by twice a day to prepare meals for her and tidy up. Though what needed tidying was anyone's guess. The old woman often reported that Katniss hardly moved from her bed or the armchair near the living room fireplace.

He hoped to be able to plant the flower beneath her bedroom window. Perhaps it would make her happy. He _hoped_ it would make her happy. It had been too long since either of them had smiled, genuinely smiled, and he wanted to change that. A few bushes beneath her bedroom window may be a start, he decided.

The next morning, just as the sun came up, he set to work. Armed with a shovel and a wheelbarrow full of bushes, he made his way to Katniss's house and began to dig. The first bush was in place when a shadow loomed over him. "What are you doing?"

Katniss stood over him, and he smiled at her. "A little gardening," he replied breezily.

"Here?" she asked, her voice flat and unfeeling.

With a chuckle, he nodded. "Yeah, here," he said. "I'm not that crazy that I don't know the difference between your house and mine."

She stared down at the bush he'd just planted, then watched him work on the second. "Primroses," she whispered.

"In honor of your sister," he told her. "It's such a pretty flower. Delicate and a bit understated, but really beautiful." When he looked up, she was gone and the front door had slammed shut.

Undeterred by her reaction, he continued to plant the bushes along the side of her house. It was late afternoon when he finally finished. Sweaty and dirty, he planned to go home, soak in the tub, and call it a night. But Greasy Sae had other ideas. She sent him off to clean himself up, but insisted that he join them for dinner. He was hesitant after his brief interaction with Katniss, but Sae assured him she didn't speak much and his company would be more for the old woman than the young one.

Clean and dressed, he returned to Katniss's house for dinner. Greasy Sae let him in, telling him how excited she was to have someone to talk to again. Though she cooked for Haymitch as well, he was less of a conversationalist than Katniss. Sae had spent most of her years alone after her husband's death in the mines. They had no living children, no siblings, and so she had occupied her time cooking for the customers at the Hob. With the illegal trading place burned to the ground and so few residents of the district returning, the Victors' Village was where she sought company.

"How long have you been back?" he asked.

"Just back yesterday," she replied, leading him to the kitchen. "Not many were considering coming back, but this is my home. Burned to the ground and all."

Peeta set the table with a little direction from the kind woman. "Are you staying here, or was your house salvageable?" he inquired, slipping into a conversation easily.

"Parts of the Seam were relatively undisturbed by the bombing," she told him, stirring a pot of stew. "I got lucky. Besides, I don't think the girl really wants my company."

Peeta glanced toward the living room where Katniss sat curled up in an armchair by the fireplace. "I don't think she wants anyone's company right now," he replied sadly.

They ate, chatting quietly as they did so. Sae had tried and failed to get Katniss to the table, and while she cleaned up and put away the leftovers, Peeta took a bowl of stew to her in the living room. Pulling up a footstool, he sat down and stirred the concoction, waiting for her to pay attention to him. Finally, she turned her head and stared at him. "Open up," he said, holding a spoonful just above the bowl so it wouldn't spill.

She turned her head back to the fire. "I'm not hungry," she mumbled. Her left hand clutched something unseen while her right covered the side of her neck. The side facing him.

"Okay, I'll just leave it here for you then," he decided. "In case you get hungry. I'll see you tomorrow, Katniss."

And with that, he left for the evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
Every day, bright and early, Peeta let himself into Katniss's house with freshly baked loaves of bread and cheese buns. Some days she was already seated in front of the fire, staring into the orange flames. Other times, she refused to leave her bed, or worse - Prim's bed. She had spent three days in the room, careful not to disturb anything but the bedsheets and a pillow.

Then, she found the rose. A genetically enhanced white rose with an overpowering smell was stuck between two books on the shelf by the bed. She had grabbed it and the two books and began to rip them apart before tossing them out the window. Peeta had been tending the primrose bushes when it happened, and heard her anguished screams before petals and paper rained down on him.

It was too warm for a fire, but Katniss had one lit anyhow. Instead of the armchair, he found her on the sofa, lying on her stomach, as she stared at the flames across the room. Greasy Sae hadn't arrived yet to make breakfast, meaning the two were alone for the first time since their return to the district.

"I brought your favorite," he told her, placing the baked goods on the coffee table. She glanced at the cheese buns briefly before returning her gaze to the fire. He sat down beside them and clasped his hands. "You need to eat. Please, Katniss."

She said nothing as she continued to stare at the orangey-red blaze. It seemed, once again, that there would be no getting through to her. But it didn't stop him from trying. "Would it be better if I left?" he asked, sure he would get no answer. "I know you still hate me. I don't blame you after all the things I've done. So, I'll just go then."

He rose from the coffee table and had just made it to the front door when he heard her say, "No."

Stopping in his tracks, he let go of the doorknob and turned back to her. "What?" he asked.

"Don't go," she clarified, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

Peeta moved back into the living room and reclaimed his seat on the coffee table. "Sae said she's been forcing you to eat," he said, looking to the baked goods by his side.

"Sometimes I think I see her in the flames," she whispered, ignoring the food despite the wonderful smell of fresh bread. "Can you see her?"

"Prim?" he asked, turning to face the fire. "No, I don't. I see her when I'm fighting off an attack though. Did she tell you she'd been working with me to recover the real memories? Anyhow, sometimes when I'm having one, I see her and she's telling me to fight through it, to remember that you'd never hurt me. That's when I see her."

Tears spilled from her eyes; some falling down her cheeks, other cascading over the bridge of her nose. "Why do you get the good Prim?" she wondered. "When all I see is her burning."

Hopping up, he went to the kitchen to gather a few supplies - cheese, fruit, utensils, fresh milk, and finally a blanket. Returning to the living room, he ordered, "Get up." Katniss shook her head, wary of his plans. "Come on, Katniss. This will be good for you."

"No," she said defiantly. "Not until you tell me where we're going."

He had gotten somewhere, he thought victoriously. "Just outside your house," he assured her.

Slowly she sat up. "Why there?" she asked, accepting the blanket when he handed it to her.

"I want you to see the finished product," he replied, gathering the rest of the food now that he didn't have to hold the blanket as well. He made it to the door once more before he looked back at her. "Coming?" he asked.

Rising slowly, she wrapped the blanket around herself and followed him outside. She walked a few paces behind, her steps sluggish from lack of use. When they arrived at their destination, Katniss stopped and stared at the flowers. Unwrapping the blanket, she let it fall to the ground and sat down on it. Peeta placed their breakfast on an unoccupied corner and joined her. "Thank you," she whispered.

He picked up a cheese bun, broke it in half, and handed a piece to her. "You're welcome," he replied.

She nibbled on the bread, taking only a few bites before setting it aside. The flowers had just begun to bloom, but one flower had budded early. Reaching forward, Katniss plucked it from the stem and held it close to her nose. "She always begged me to bring them back for her when my father and I went into the woods," she murmured. "When she was younger, she thought the flowers were named after her."

Peeta chuckled. "My brother thought rye bread was named after him," he told her. "Like my parents were just so happy to have him that they created a bread in his honor. Now, pita on the other hand-"

"Do you miss them?" she asked as she continued to examine the flower.

"My brothers and I weren't as close as you and..."

"It's okay. You can say her name," she said.

"We weren't as close as you and Prim," he continued, grabbing an apple from the pile of food he brought with him. "Ry ignored me until I was ten, and Cook made it his mission to embarrass me whenever he could. He once loosened the thread in the seat of my pants so they would split when I sat down. Three pairs he did it to. My mother blamed me for not taking better care of my things, and refused to fix them. I traded a cupcake to the seamstress to fix them for me."

Katniss tucked the flower behind her ear and picked up her cheese bun once more. "How old were you?" she asked. "I don't remember that happening."

He shrugged. "Six, I think."

She opened her left hand and showed it to him. "Prim gave me this for my tenth birthday," she told him. It was a simple gray rock that she had picked up by the schoolyard and had painted the letter K on it. "She was so proud of herself that she did it all by herself. My mother had wrapped it in an old piece of lace and Prim tied one of her hair ribbons around it."

There were tears in her eyes again and Peeta shifted closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I think it's beautiful," he told her.

"I just found it in her room," she continued. "I'd forgotten all about it until I found it in one of her drawers a few days ago. I didn't care about it until now, but she did. It must have hurt her feelings that I didn't care about it. God, I was a terrible sister."

Peeta scoffed. "We both know that isn't true," he replied. "All of Panem knew that wasn't true. You sacrificed yourself for her-"

"And in the end, I still couldn't save her," she interrupted, her sorrow turning to anger. Pulling the flower from her hair, she dropped it and rose to her feet. "Thank you for breakfast, but I have to go."


	4. Chapter 4

Come on reviewers! I have a little bit left to write and a few chapters to post, but this poor sad, lonely story needs some love.

* * *

Chapter 4  
"I shouldn't have pushed her," Peeta said with a heavy sigh. While he kneaded dough, Haymitch sat at his kitchen table with a bottle of white liquor in hand. Ripper had finally returned to District 12, and with her came her supply of booze.

"Got her talking again, didn't you?" he inquired.

Peeta shrugged. "Sure, until she started crying again. Then she ran inside and locked the doors, and refused to open them again."

The older man smiled widely. "Yeah, but you got her talking again," he said. Once more the young blond shrugged and went back to his baking.

He had just put the loaf into the oven to bake when there was a knock on the front door. Wiping the flour off on his apron, he untied the strings and draped it over the back of a chair. He opened the door to find Katniss staring down at her bare feet. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied, stepping out of her way so she could enter.

Standing in the living room, hands holding something in front of her, Katniss stared at the floor. "It broke," she whispered, offering him the pieces of a small music box. "Can you...will you fix it?"

He took the pieces from her and led her to the sofa to sit. The lid had broken off at the hinges, and Peeta wondered how he would put it back together. "How did this happen?" he wondered.

Katniss stared at the carpet, her arms criss-crossed around her waist, and she rocked back and forth. "Did you ever hate him?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Who?" Peeta wondered, brows furrowed as he stared at her.

"Your brother," she clarified. "Cook."

Peeta rose and crossed the room. He opened a small drawer in the armoire and pulled out a set of tools. "Why would I hate him?" he asked, looking through the selection for anything that might be of use in repairing the music box.

"He could have volunteered for you," she explained. "Although that didn't work out so well in my case."

Peeta shook his head. "The rules wouldn't have been the same if it were you and him in the arena," he replied. "If you won, that would have meant my brother died."

"They died anyway," she exclaimed, anguish in her voice, and he was sure she had begun to cry again.

Tools forgotten, he turned to comfort her, but Haymitch beat him to it. Their mentor had taken his seat beside her and held her in a firm embrace. "I know it's hard losing the people you love, sweetheart," he told her. "Whether you went into the arena that first time or not, the war still would have come. More people would have died if it didn't happen when it did. You put an end the the Hunger Games and a lot of suffering, sweetheart. And look at it this way - Peeta might not be here without you."

She turned to look at the shocked boy standing on the other side of the room. "I didn't save him," she murmured, her gaze falling back to the floor.

Peeta set the music box down and took a seat on her other side. "Katniss, you saved my life more times than I can count," he said, hesitant to touch her. "If it hadn't been for you, I...I know I never would have gotten out of the arena the first time."

"Yeah, but Cato only injured you because of me," she retorted.

"Right," he scoffed. "He would have just killed me flat out." Getting to his feet, he returned to his spot on the other side of the room just as his mind began to feel fuzzy. Images of the arena, of Katniss stuck up in a tree conspiring with a nest of tracker jackers, a smile on her face as she attempted to take out the Careers and himself. He shook his head. "Cato stabbed me because I helped you. Real or not real?"

Katniss sniffled. "Real," she replied, her voice thick with tears.

"And when you went to the feast, you did it to save me. Real or not real?"

Again, she answered, "Real."

"Because that's what we do - we save each other," he stated. "Real or not real?"

She recalled a time, in the middle of the war, when she had uttered those same words to him. Looking up at him, she finally smiled. "Real," she replied.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he nodded and rejoined them. "Okay, then."

"Is that why you knocked the nightlock pill out of my hand after the assassination? Because we save each other?" she asked. Peeta nodded. "I wish you hadn't."

Peeta's face fell and he opened his mouth to refute her, but Haymitch once again beat him to it. "That would have been convenient, wouldn't it," he said. "You die, you don't have to deal with us anymore. No more cleaning me up after a week of drinking. No more wondering if Peeta will strangle you in your sleep. Sure, dying would have let you off nice and easy. But what about us?"

Katniss moved away from him and hugged herself. "What about you?" she wondered.

"My family, his family, both are gone," Haymitch continued, tentatively placing his hand on her shoulder. "Dysfunctional as we may be, the three of us have become a family. We fight, we yell, we scream at each other, but at the end of the day, we're the ones who are here for each other. I've lost a lot of people over the years, people I've loved. I don't know that I could have survived losing you too."

Her tears returned with renewed force, but she continued to back away like prey from a hunter. She said nothing as she inched closer and closer to the front door, and when she finally reached it, she left without another word. Peeta stared at the door, then looked down at the two halves of the music box in his hands.

"Why did you say that to her?" he wondered.

"Because," Haymitch replied with a sad sigh, "it's true."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
It seemed they had an unspoken mutual agreement to avoid one another. Peeta continued to bake for her everyday, but it was Haymitch who made the deliveries. From his front window, he could see the frown Greasy Sae wore when she accepted the homemade treats. He was sure Haymitch asked about Katniss, but Sae's frown deepened and she shook her head.

He turned away from the windows and returned to the kitchen. The back door was open when he arrived. "Hello?" he called out, curious to know who had opened his door. There were so few people in town, and most of them were at the house across the road.

"I needed to get out of there," he heard Katniss say. Rounding the kitchen table, he found her seated on the floor, back pressed against the wall.

Peeta sat down across from her, careful to keep a few feet of space between them. It wouldn't do to have her worry that he could attack her at any moment. "What's going on, Katniss?" he asked.

She stared at the nearest cabinet as she said, "I went to the woods today. I just...sat there for hours trying to remember how it made me happy once."

"But you couldn't?" Peeta guessed.

She nodded. "I used to have a family feed. That's why I hunted," she told him. "But now...it's just me. It seems so pointless."

Peeta sighed and leaned back on his hands. "It's been a long time since I've eaten squirrel," he said wistfully. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not the greatest meat. But there's something almost sentimental about it. Don't you think?"

She looked at him guiltily. "I'm sorry," she said. "I hadn't even thought about how your family used to..."

"It's fine," he assured her, attempting to smile despite the pang of longing he felt for his father.

"Was it hard to start baking again?" she asked. "I mean, did it bring up...memories of life before?"

Peeta shrugged, and stretching his arm to the table, pulled down a small bundle of cheese buns. "These were the easiest to make again," he said, offering her one. "They remind me of you. Other things though...my dad loved apple pie. It was the first thing he and I ever baked together. I used to steal little bits of apple as he was cutting them. I don't know if I'll ever be able to make one now."

Katniss bit into the cheese bun and chewed slowly. "Would you come with me one day?" she asked. "Maybe it'll be easier with some company."

"You used to make fun of me for being too heavy footed," he pointed out. Her sigh was chock full of irritation. "Okay, I'll go. Just don't shoot me when I scare off all the game," he relented.

His ankle was just close enough for her to touch, and so she laid her hand on it. "Thank you," she murmured.

Peeta frowned. "Did you really think I'd say no?" he wondered, watching as she retracted her hand.

Katniss shrugged. "After all I've done to you, I thought you might," she replied.

"What is it you think you've done to me, Katniss?" he asked, leaning forward.

She pushed up the leg of his pants to reveal the prosthetic leg he wore. "_This_ was my fault," she told him. "Everything that happened during the Quell - the force field, the monkey attack, your capture - all my fault."

"_None_ of that was your fault," he replied emphatically, removing her hand from his leg to hold in his own. "You saved my life with that tourniquet. Without it, I would have bled to death. And none of the stuff that happened during the Quell was your fault. We should have stayed together, sure, but it's not like it was your idea for the rebellion to only rescue you."

"The berries were my fault," she muttered, twisting her hand so her fingers intertwined with his.

Peeta moved so they sat side by side. "You heard Haymitch, Katniss," he said. "The war would have started with or without us. Imagine if those berries weren't the spark. How many more Games would have happened? What if Prim had been chosen again? There would have been no one to take her place."

Her tone turned from one of guilt to one of extreme heartache. "She still died, Peeta," she replied, placing her head on his shoulder. "I see it all the time. She and Rue and Finnick and Boggs haunt my dreams every night. I miss them, Peeta. I miss my sister."

He held her close as she cried, wetting his shirt with her tears. His sleeping hours had also been haunted by the ghosts of his past. Some nights he relived Cato's gruesome end. Others, he repeatedly kicked Mitchell into the net that sealed his fate. Every night, he awoke with sweat and tears dripping down his face.

"I miss her too," he told her. "When we were in 13, she came to see me every day. We'd talk, or she would most of the time. She would tell me stories about growing up with the great Katniss Everdeen. I've never known anyone who loved their sibling the way she loved you. She often told me she hoped she could be more like you one day. I think she got there sooner than she would have thought. She was brave like you and completely selfless."

"I'm not selfless," she interrupted.

But Peeta silenced her. "Yes, you are," he insisted. "When you love someone, you do whatever it takes protect them. Even if it means risking your own life to do it. You did it for Prim when she was reaped. You did it for me when I was dying."

"I didn't want to lose either of you," she replied, sniffling. "Selfish."

Peeta chuckled. "Fine, we agree to disagree on this," he decided. They sat together in silence, wrapped up in each other's arms. Her sobs had ceased for the time being, and for that Peeta was grateful.

"Remember back before the Quell?" Katniss asked hesitantly. She looked up to see him nod, though his blond brows were furrowed in confusion. "Can we go back to that? Will you stay with me tonight? Maybe then I'll get some sleep."

"I'll be there," he promised.


	6. Chapter 6

I've decided to post the rest of the story throughout the day. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 6  
Peeta awoke only seconds before Katniss. The sun had just risen, casting an orangey yellow glow on her bedroom. "Morning," he whispered as a bird began to sing somewhere outside.

She looked up at him shyly. "Morning," she returned, letting her head fall back into place on his chest.

"We always slept facing each other," he said. "Real or not real?"

Katniss smiled. "Real," she told him. "Facing the other way...it kind of prolongs the terror, even if it's only for a few seconds."

He moved the hair away from her eyes. "My nightmares are still usually about losing you," he admitted. "You weren't afraid last night that I might hurt you?"

"It hadn't crossed my mind," she replied honestly. "I was just hoping I'd get some rest for once."

"And?" Peeta asked, rolling over so they faced one another. "What's the verdict?"

"I saw Prim," she said, smiling at the memory. "She looked so beautiful, so grown up. We sat in the woods watching the sunrise. I didn't want to wake up. It was so peaceful."

Despite the sadness in her eyes, Peeta noticed the smile that crested on her lips. Finally, she had a happy thought of her too soon departed sister. And he knew it wouldn't last once they left the comfort of her bed. Peeta shifted nervously, loosening his hold on her waist as he rolled onto his back. Katniss sat up and stared at him, a worried expression taking the place of the smile she wore only seconds earlier.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, looking anywhere but at her. "Do you ever wonder if we'll be normal again?"

She shifted so that she sat cross legged by his side. "I thought wallowing in self pity was my thing," she replied, hoping to coax a smile out of him with her pathetic attempt at humor.

"So, what am I supposed to be doing?" he wondered.

"You bake," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Haymitch drinks, I wallow, and you bake. Your thing is at least productive."

"You could hunt again," he suggested. "I thought that was your plan."

"It is. Eventually."

Peeta sat up and turned to face her. "Have you heard from Gale?" he asked. The question had been on his mind for weeks, since they returned to District 12. But Katniss had been so distraught that he couldn't bring himself to ask it.

She shook her head, her eyes focused on her lap. "I can't," she murmured sadly. "Even if he wasn't responsible for those bombs falling, he's still responsible for their design. He played just as big a role in Prim's death as Coin did. I can't forgive him for it."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Peeta replied, placing his hand on her knee. "But he's known you longer. I just thought maybe he'd be able to help you better than I can."

Katniss picked up his hand. "Say he hadn't been involved in the bombing," she hypothesized. "If he had zero knowledge of what those bombs did, he still wouldn't be the one I could turn to."

"Gale never tried to kill you," he stated, staring at their joined hands.

"What happened to you was the Capitol's fault," she said dismissively.

"But you've forgiven me," he continued. Katniss pulled away and climbed off the bed. It was then he understood - she cared more for her sister's life than her own. In her mind, her own death was justifiable, but Prim was meant to live a long life. Getting off the bed, he joined her on the other side of the room as she dug through the wardrobe for something clean to wear. "Why me?" he asked her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

He heard her sniffle and knew she was crying once more. "Because you're you," she replied, leaning back against his chest. Peeta said nothing, and she was sure he was awaiting further explanation, but she wasn't confident she could provide one. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

"What time is Greasy Sae coming by to make breakfast?" he asked after a long stretch of silence.

"Soon," she replied, glancing out the window as the sun rose higher in the sky. "Do you want to stay?"

"Sure," he agreed. "And I was thinking, maybe after, we could go to the woods."

"Sae would love to have some fresh game," she replied. "Or we could swim. It's getting warmer out."

Peeta chuckled softly. "Sae's not going to recognize this new you," he joked. She looked up at him with furrowed brows. "Less sulky, more willing to leave the Village. And was I having a tracker jacker attack or have I seen you smile at least twice since we woke up?"

Katniss scowled, but found it was hard to maintain. "Maybe I need a distraction too," she decided.

Unwrapping his arms from her shoulders, Peeta moved around until he stood in front of her. Face to face, he could see the faint lines of the tears that had slipped down her cheeks. He caressed her soft skin, erasing any trace of her sadness as his thumb swept back and forth. He smiled hesitantly, assessing her mood.

She, too, looked at him with curiosity teeming in her gray eyes. Her breath stalled in her lungs as she awaited his next move. Peeta stood motionless except for his sweeping thumb, and Katniss feared that at any moment the tracker jacker venom would once more claim his mind. His free arm wound around her waist, holding her flush to his body.

"I can think of another distraction," he murmured, his smile turning more tender.

Katniss seemed to stop breathing altogether, her mind racing as leaned in and kissed her. Their lips touched, soft and familiar, but she pulled away soon after it started. Pulling his hand away from her cheek, she gave it a gentle squeeze before letting it go. "We can't," she whispered, longing and remorse thick in her voice. Stepping away from him, she quickly added, "I have to go," before leaving the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
Haymitch was passed out at the kitchen table when Katniss entered his house. The familiar knife was clutched in his right hand and his left was mere centimeters from a bottle of white liquor. Dropping her full game bag beside the table, she sat down across from him and reached for the bottle. It was a quarter full, but it would be more than enough to ease her overactive mind. The instant the bottle moved, Haymitch's head popped up and his eyes glared dangerously at her as he raised the knife.

"Peeta had an attack," she told him calmly, undeterred by the potential threat of her drunken mentor.

The knife lowered. "Where is he?"

Katniss examined the bottle in her hand. "His house, I think."

Haymitch staggered to his feet. "You think?" he exclaimed. "Damnit, Katniss!"

She brought the liquor to her lips and took a hasty swig. "He kicked in the door to...one of my bedrooms," she continued. "I went out to the woods, and when I came back he was gone and the room was a mess. I didn't want to deal with it just yet."

Groaning, Haymitch reclaimed his seat and asked, "Any idea what brought it on?"

"We kissed," she mumbled, taking another sip.

"And?" Haymitch prodded.

Katniss shrugged. "And then I left," she replied. "I can't do it again. I can't be with him."

He grabbed the bottle from her hand and drained its contents. "And who do you suppose he should be with?" he wondered. "That Cartwright girl? With her annoyingly chipper personality and that voice that rivals the sound of nails on a chalkboard."

"I'm not a better choice," she argued. "Wasn't it you who said I'd never deserve him?"

Getting to his feet, Haymitch found another bottle of alcohol and twisted the cap open. "And yet it's still you he wants," he pointed out. "You may not deserve him, but no one else will ever understand him the way you do. No one else will ever know what he's been through the way you will. Maybe he's the one who doesn't deserve you - someone who can't put aside her own self-pity long enough to see what's in front of her. He doesn't deserve to be with someone who doesn't care about him."

"That's not fair," she murmured, wishing she had a bottle of her own to distract her.

Haymitch leaned across the the table, and she could smell the stale booze on his breath. "He loves you, sweetheart, and you couldn't give a damn about that," he stated. "Now get out. I'm tired of being your mentor. Figure this one out on your own."

Grabbing her bag, she roughly pushed back her chair until it fell to the floor. "You don't know anything anyway," she grumbled, slamming the front door as she left.

With Katniss gone, Haymitch took a moment to collect himself, take a quick shot of alcohol, and gather himself to search for Peeta. He didn't have to go far. The scream he heard coming from her house could be heard halfway across the district. Haymitch ran across the dirt road, and finding her front door locked, kicked it until it burst open.

One hand gripping her hair, Peeta's other arm was around her throat, effectively cutting off Katniss's air flow. Grabbing the back of his shirt, Haymitch pulled Peeta away and pushed him out the front door, locking it behind him to effectively keep him out. "Breathe, sweetheart," he coaxed the shaken girl, holding her with one arm while his hand massaged the back of her scalp.

She coughed several times as she attempted to take several deep breaths. He led her to the kitchen and sat her down at the table before he filled a glass with water. "Drink," he instructed, walking away.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, rising to her feet.

"Take care of him," Haymitch grumbled, continuing steadfastly toward the door.

Peeta clutched the porch railing, his knuckles white from the pressure of his grip on the wood. He heard the door open and close behind him. "Is she okay?" he asked, head hung and eyes tightly closed.

Haymitch sidled up beside him and leaned against the railing. "She will be," he replied.

The younger man nodded and placed his elbows on the rail so his hands could support his head. "We kissed," he murmured.

"I heard," his mentor said.

"And then I tried to kill her," Peeta continued.

"Heard that too," came Haymitch's response. "She said she went back to her house and you'd torn up the place. Her sister's room if my deductions are correct. Where'd you go after that?"

Peeta ran a hand over his face and sighed. "The pantry," he replied. "I destroyed her sister's room and then hid in the kitchen pantry. She came in, opened the door, and I attacked her."

Haymitch placed a comforting hand on Peeta's shoulder, but he quickly shook it off. "She knows you can't help it," he said softly. "Give her time."

He turned to face the front door, willing it to open, willing her to appear. "What if she doesn't forgive me this time?" he wondered. "She...she told me she couldn't forgive Gale because he hurt her sister. What's so different about me destroying Prim's things?"

The door opened and Katniss stepped out, careful to keep close to the door. "Because you didn't know what you were doing," she told him.

"That's just it - I did know," he said, ashamed and guilty and unable to look her in the eye. "I knew it would hurt you, and the venom told me I needed to hurt you."

"They're just things," she replied, her voice devoid of any emotion. Because they weren't just things. They were Prim's things. But she knew how upset Peeta became after an attack, and how he often disappeared for days.

Peeta shook his head and moved closer to her, his steps slow and tentative. "Your neck isn't just some thing," he murmured, gently touching the reddened skin of her throat. "I'll clean it up, all of it. Make any repairs that are needed. Just...I'm sorry, Katniss."

She pulled his hand away from her neck, whether to comfort him or because she was afraid he would hurt her again she didn't know. "I know," came her whispered reply.  
He wrapped his arms around her, and she mirrored his affection. They held each other close as silent tears fell from blue eyes. "Never leave me," she whispered, tightening her arms around his neck.

"Never."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
Peeta had been true to his word. Early the next morning, while Katniss went to the woods to hunt, he slipped into her house and took the stairs to the second floor to assess the damage. The door hung by one hinge. The floor was littered with clothing, some torn at the seams, others merely wrinkled. The large mirror that hung above the dresser (drawers pulled out) was cracked, and he wondered if that's why his hand had bled the day before. Books and picture frames lay in a heap of torn pages and broken glass. But one thing remained undamaged - the music box he had repaired a week ago.

Picking it up from the shelf, he took it back to the bed and sat down. He lifted the lid and listened to the soft melody that played. "I wish you were still here," he whispered to Prim as he closed the lid. Setting it aside, he started on his task of fixing up the bedroom.

Katniss returned empty handed after an hour in the woods. Her mind seemed miles away as she entered the house and set down her gear near the door. Sounds came from above, and she quickly knocked an arrow into place. She moved with a hunter's grace, making no noise and keeping her breathing soft. Her feet moved up the stairs, careful to avoid the squeaky parts. A figure appeared near the door to Prim's room, and she lined up the arrow for an easy kill.

"Oh my God," she heard Peeta shout before ducking back into the room.

Letting her bow drop, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Damn you, Peeta," she muttered, entering the room. "Put your hands down. I'm not going to shoot you."

He lowered his arms, but kept a watchful eye on the weapon she still held. "If you could just-"

Katniss laid her bow and quiver down on the bed and examined the room. "Can you paint something on this wall?" she asked.

Peeta had already gathered the clothes, reorganized the shelves, and cleaned up the glass from the picture frames. All that was left was putting the door back on its hinges. "Do you have anything in mind?" he asked, looking at the blank, white wall across from the windows.

She shrugged, at a loss for what would best reflect her sister. "Something pretty," she said. "Prim always liked pictures of the beaches in District 4."

Peeta stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "The beach at sunset," he murmured. "Remember how beautiful it was when we were on the Victory Tour? You begged Effie to allow us to stay there longer so you could finish watching the sun set over the water."

"That was one of my better days," she recalled. "No nightmares."

"We could go back one day," he offered, slowly moving his hands from her shoulders, down her arms, to rest around her waist. Instinctively, she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I think, for now, I'll have to settle for a mural," she responded sadly.

His lips pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "We'll get out of here one day," he assured her.

Katniss pulled away and stared at him incredulously. "We?" she inquired. "You can leave whenever you want. You didn't kill the wrong president. You weren't sentenced to detention in 12. If you want to see the beaches of 4 or the diamond mines in 1, you're free to go, Peeta. Don't let me stop you."

Taking hold of her wrist, he drew her closer once more. "That's not what I meant," he told her, frustration lacing his words. "You know that isn't what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" she wondered, her tone softening as his hand loosened its bruising grip on her arm.

Peeta sat down at the foot of the bed, bringing Katniss with him. His hand moved from her wrist to her hand, closing around it. Looking down at the floor, he sighed. "I think you already know what I mean," he murmured. The pained look in her eyes implored him to explain it though. "You still have no idea how much you mean to me, do you?"

"I have some idea," she replied.

He chuckled. "I really don't think you do," he said. "The question is - how do you feel about me? Sometimes I wonder if it's me sleeping beside you at night because there's no one else to turn to."

"That's not true," she replied, moving to sit on his lap. She rested her weight on his good leg and wound an arm around his neck, her fingers toying with the blond curls at the nape of his neck. "It's you because you stuck by me when everyone else gave up on me. You love me still, despite it all. Despite my inability to love anyone, despite the hijacking, despite all the horrible things I've done. You still love me, don't you?"

Peeta nodded. "I do," he affirmed. "And I know you do too. In your own way. I'm okay with it, ya know. Just knowing that if it's just a small part of you that cares about me, it's enough."

It was more than just a small part of her, but Katniss couldn't bring herself to say it. Instead, she nodded and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was over only seconds later despite her desire to never let it end. He was hers and she was his, and nothing could come between them again.

Except her.

Except a mind and a heart that had been hurt too much to allow anyone else in as fully as she did Prim. Because in the blink of an eye anyone could leave. They could die. She could be alone again. And she didn't want to be alone.

Letting go of his hand, she wrapped her other arm around his neck in a comforting embrace. "Will you stay with me?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper in his ear.

And he knew she meant more than just today, right now, or tonight. He knew she meant forever. And so he replied, "Always."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
Their routine has changed. Katniss no longer needs to ask that he stay the night, and Peeta no longer fears that she'll make him leave. His belongings had slowly begun to migrate to her house - clothes, painting supplies, baking ingredients and tools. They had cleaned out her mother's bedroom, sending off her personal belongings and mementos to District 4. The room had the best natural light and a lovely view of the town, and Katniss designated it his painting studio.

Each morning, they laid in bed until the other awoke. On good days, Peeta baked while Katniss hunted. On bad days, the days when she couldn't seem to rouse herself from bed, Peeta stayed by her side. He held her as she cried, as the waking nightmares passed, until she fell asleep once more. And he continued to hold her, whispering in her ear that she was safe and loved, that he would never leave her.

The next morning, she would be the first to open her eyes, and wait for him to awaken. She would kiss him those mornings as a show of gratitude. Then they would rise and the routine would continue. After hunting and baking and breakfast, Peeta would lock himself in Prim's room, barring Katniss from entering. "I want it to be a surprise," he told her each time she attempted to see the mural.

Some nights, Haymitch would join them for dinner. It was often left to Peeta to revive him from his drunken stupor and drag him across the street to their house. They ate well, thanks in part to Greasy Sae's cooking. Alcohol was never served with the meal, and Haymitch would often eat as quickly as he could so he could leave as soon as possible. The nights he stayed long enough to have dessert were also the ones when he and Katniss argued the most.

Why did he insist on drinking so much?

Why did she have to kick his geese every time she neared his house?

What was so bad about spending an evening with them?

Why wouldn't she marry Peeta?

That one question ended every shouting match. Most nights she would retreat to the bedroom. But tonight, after a day of lying in bed with Peeta for no reason other than that they could, she knocked her chair back and glared at him. "What I do is none of your business," she hissed.

"Then stop dragging me into it," he replied, more sober than she had seen him in a long time.

"I don't," she stated, trying to recall the last time she had mentioned her relationship with Peeta to him. She glanced to the seat beside her, hoping Peeta would back her up, but he was gone. Sae was gone. It was just her and Haymitch. "You told me once that you're not my mentor anymore, and I think I've done a good enough job of adhering to that."

"That might be the first thing I've ever said that you've listened to," he retorted, his finger tracing the lip of his water glass. "Too bad the boy won't."

Righting her chair, she sat back down and stared down at her lap. "What did he say?" she asked.

"What he always says."

There was no need to ask as she was sure she already knew what Peeta always said. He loved her, he wanted to be with her, he wanted to make their relationship permanent. He wanted marriage and children, to finally have a loving family. But he also knew that that wasn't what she wanted.

Nodding, she left the table and made her way to the second floor. It wasn't their bedroom where she found him, but Prim's room. The door was wide open and she could see that he was painting the walls. Vivid colors and images exploded from the once white walls; twilight on the beaches of District 4. The setting sun, the rolling waves, the beautiful sand; she could feel it all as she stared at his masterpiece.

"It's not finished," Peeta told her, setting down his paint and brush.

"It looks so real," she said in awe as she continued to admire it, sitting down on the tarp that protected the hardwood floor from any paint drops.

"You're gonna get paint on your pants," he warned her.

Katniss shrugged. "It'll wash out," she replied. "Come sit with me?"

"Then I'm gonna get paint on my pants," he said with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes and patted the floor beside her. "I'll wash them," she promised. Peeta eased himself down beside her, stretching his bad leg out in front of him. "Does it hurt?" she asked, placing her hand just above where his knee once was.

"A bit," he conceded.

They sat in silence, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her, as they stared at the work of art. "Prim would love this," she murmured. "Thank you, Peeta."

"You know I'd do anything for you," he told her.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she turned his face toward her own. "Would you marry me?" she asked.

He withdrew his arm from her shoulders and removed her hand from his chin. "Is that really what you want?" he wondered. She nodded her head, but it did little to convince him. "I'm fine with the arrangement we have now. We don't have to get married, especially if it's not really what you want to do."

"What if it is what I want?" she insisted, reaching desperately for his hands to hold. "No one else has ever made me feel the way you do, and I want to have that forever."

"And what do I make you feel?" he wondered.

A blush blossomed on her cheeks and she averted her gaze. "Safe, comfortable," she replied. Then she looked up. "Loved."

"What about my attacks?" he asked.

"We'll get through them together," she vowed.

Peeta nodded. "Okay, one more question then," he replied. "You love me - real or not real?"

Katniss smiled and leaned forward. "Real," she replied, kissing him. "Definitely real."


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue  
Five...ten...fifteen years.

Five years after their toasting, Peeta finally succeeded in convincing Katniss that the world was safe enough to bring a child into it. She lost the baby before she even knew she was pregnant. After mourning the loss of the unborn life, she swore she would never try again.

Just days after their tenth anniversary, their daughter was born. Dark hair and blue eyes, she was the love of her father's life. But Katniss was wary. Every second of her pregnancy scared her, and she was sure that it would be worse after she was born. Peeta, for the first few weeks at least, had been the sole caretaker. He saw to each meal, each diaper change, each nap.

Despite her protests, Peeta returned to the bakery, leaving Katniss home alone with Dahlia. Katniss cried when she cried, which was often. She begged the little girl to eat or sleep or lie quietly in her cradle so she could have a moment to just breathe. They would walk to the bakery, Katniss ignoring the stares and pitiful looks she received from everyone she passed. Peeta would hold Dahlia and calm her down while Katniss ate, often her first meal of the day.

Then, one day on their walk to the bakery, Katniss turned toward the Seam. The fence around the woods had long since been taken down, and she was easily able to stroll through the trees. Finally, Dahlia calmed down. It became their haven. When they returned to the house, Katniss's anxiety and Dahlia's screams returned with them. But in the woods, they were safe and happy.

Gavin Mellark was born on their fifteenth Christmas together. While Dahlia often clung to her father, the little blond haired, gray eyed boy sought his mother's comforting arms. She was more comfortable the second time around, more at ease when he cried. There was no longer a need to run to Peeta because now she could handle it herself.

The two children share Prim's old room, still decorated with the beach at sunset mural Peeta had designed years ago. Effie Trinket, the former Capitol designated escort for District 12, had sent a machine that simulated the sounds of waves crashing on the shore. It lulled Gavin to sleep each night as he rested his small hand on the cool wall as if he could feel the surf and sand. Dahlia, however, seemed to sense her mother's reluctance to allow anyone in the room, and slept in her parents' bed until she was three.

Gavin was daring and outgoing, and the first to coin their former mentor "Papa Mitch." The little boy smiled often while Dahlia was prone to thoughtful stares. He cried when Katniss left for the woods, waking up early each morning in hopes that day would be the day she would take him with her.

"Think you'll ever teach them to shoot?" Peeta asked one day as he baked a loaf of raisin bread.

"Couldn't hurt," she replied, tasting the wild turkey stew that simmered on the stove top. "It breaks my heart every morning when he hears me leave. Maybe tomorrow I'll take him. I don't need to hunt."

Peeta sidled up beside her and kissed her temple. "I think he'd like that," he murmured.

The front door opened and was kicked shut. "Someone get these brats off me!" Haymitch shouted as the children giggled. "I'm too old to be a climbing post."

Wiping the flour off on his pants, Peeta came to his rescue. He removed Gavin from the older man's pant leg, but Haymitch held onto Dahlia. "I'll keep this one," he decided. "She doesn't give me guff the way this little terror does. Too much like his mother."

"Mama?" Gavin asked excitedly as he looked around for her.

Peeta bent down to his level and whispered conspiratorially, "Check the kitchen, buddy. I think she has a surprise for you."

Dahlia sat on Haymitch's lap and fiddled with the button on his shirt. "I'm not a brat," she mumbled.

Gavin squealed enthusiastically as Haymitch's mouth hung open with a retort that died on his lips. Katniss joined them with the little boy held aloft in her arms. "I go woods, Daddy," he declared, peppering his mother's cheek with wet kisses.

"Does that mean I can go to the bakery with you, Daddy?" Dahlia asked, hoping he would say yes.

"Don't you have school tomorrow, sweetheart?" Haymitch asked. Katniss chuckled softly, knowing Peeta would have said yes just to make their daughter happy. "School's important, ya know. It's where you learn all your reading and writing skills, so you can come over and read stories to your old Papa."

"I'll pick you up and you can spend the rest of the day at the bakery with me," Peeta offered. Beside him, Katniss cleared her throat. "And you're not allowed to bribe me into giving you a cookie for each assignment you complete."

Haymitch laughed as he scooped her up and rose to his feet. "Eh, you'll give her one anyway," he said, carrying the little girl to the kitchen.

Peeta scowled as his wife attempted to cover up a smile. "He's right," she pointed out, setting Gavin down on his feet and sending him off to the kitchen.

"I don't spoil her," he mumbled.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I know," she replied. "Just her appetite."

"My dad did the same thing to me, and I turned out fine."

Her arms tightened around him and she rested her chin on his chest. "More than fine," she agreed. "You're practically a saint just for putting up with me."

"The things we do for the ones we love," he replied with a smile as his arms finally held her. Leaning down, his lips grazed hers. "You love me. Real or not real?"

"Real," she replied, drawing him nearer so she could deepen the kiss.

"Knock it off," Haymitch yelled. "Your kids are hungry."

Dahlia joined in. "Can we have apple pie for dinner?"

Chuckling, Peeta moved one arm to her shoulders while the other fell to his side. "Why do we keep him around?" he asked, leading his wife to the kitchen for dinner.

Katniss shrugged. "Because he's family."

The End.


End file.
